


Ever after

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post Season 8, Post canon, Sequel to In the arms of the woman he loves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: A sequel to "In the arms of the woman he loves"It's been long since Jaime and Brienne have confessed their feelings to each other while on the brink of death. Now that the war is over, what next? Jaime as usual, teases her about Tormund, but her reaction takes him by surprise. It's not something he expects...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally intended as a one-shot, I had to split this into two short chapters to maintain a logical break.  
> I'll be posting the second chapter in a day or two.

Amidst the chaos and destruction that the war had left behind, there was only one face Jaime wished to see, his eyes desperately seeking the one person whose company and companionship he yearned for. He roamed the castle searching for her, wanting to find her and hold her tight, never to let go of her again. He searched high and low for her, finding success only after several excruciating minutes. There, sitting alone in the Godswood, bathed in the moonlight, was his Brienne, the only person who mattered to him now apart from Tyrion. There she was-the woman he loved.

“Can’t sleep, wench?” She turned around, her beautiful eyes lighting up at the sight of him and her lips curving in a shy smile, the most favourable acknowledgement to his presence that he could ever ask for. So much had transpired between them on that fateful night when he was mortally wounded. He had confessed his love for her and she had, though not in as many words, conveyed that she returned his feelings. Nothing more was said after that, with neither of them having the time to broach the subject again.

They were both equally terrible when it came to expressing matters of the heart. Despite that, they had somehow always ended up communicating wordlessly, but effectively. So all they did after that day was steal long, lingering glances at each other from time to time, each reassuring the other of their place in their heart, while silently lamenting the wait they would have to endure to bring their gradually blossoming relationship to fruition. Now that they had both survived the war, Jaime felt a subconscious fear and insecurity mounting inside him, a feeling that almost threatened to overshadow the euphoria of the anticipation of a future with Brienne. _Was everything they exchanged that night just an outcome of the heat of the moment? Did Brienne still love him? Would she still want to spend the rest of her life with a cripple like him?_

“You’re awake too, Ser Jaime,” she observed. “What brings you in search of my company at such an odd hour?”

“Yours is the only company I have desired from the minute I entered these gates many moons ago, my lady,” gazing deeply into her eyes, he sat down next to her. Conscious of his presence, she immediately lowered her lashes. “Do not look away from me, Brienne,” he raised her chin gently. “These are eyes I wish to drown myself in every single day, until the day I die--”

“Don’t you dare talk about dying anymore,” Brienne brusquely shut him up. “Was the scare you gave me that night not enough? Gods forbid, if anything had happened to you that day…” she trailed off, her voice choked.

“You would have been rid of me and free to marry your wildling admirer,” he teased, shifting closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” she scowled at him, her eyes flashing fire. Jaime had to fight hard to suppress a smile. After all these years, she was still the same. All it took was just a bit of mild teasing to get her completely worked up. He loved her even more when she was angry and aggressive, he realized, remembering the first time he was impressed with her when she single handedly took down the three Stark men.

“No, why don’t you tell me now?” he whispered, his lips hovering close to hers. He could feel her breath, warm and in short bursts, an obvious reaction to his proximity.

She shrugged his arm off her shoulder and swiftly got to her feet, but he caught her hand, in no mood to let her leave that easily. “Give me a kiss first, and then you can start hating me, wench.”

“I’d rather spare my kisses for my _wildling admirer_ , Ser Jaime, what do you think?” she glared at him for a second and hurried away, leaving him sitting there, open mouthed and shocked. He was surprised to find himself angry and jealous at her response even though he knew she was joking.

 _Beaten at my own game,_  he thought, as he strode back to the castle, preparing himself for a long and sleepless night as his next meeting with the wench would be no sooner than breakfast tomorrow.

+++++

“In case you haven’t noticed, your _friend_ is eating all alone,” Jaime pointed towards Tormund when Brienne took the seat next to him at the table.

Without batting an eyelid, she got up immediately, picking up her plate. “You’re right, I should go and sit there. Tormund misses me, he appreciates my time and I--”

“You...what?” he frowned, instantly cursing himself for his stupidity.

“I was about to say that I shouldn’t keep Tormund waiting,” she gave him a bright smile. “So, would you mind excusing me, ser?” Not bothering to wait for a reply, she made her way towards Tormund who only looked too happy to have her by his side.

Jaime sat there sulking, attacking his food with the knife for no fault of its. He caught Tormund sneering at him, which only added insult to his injury. “He can keep waiting all his life!” he muttered under his breath, annoyed that the wench had once again paid him back in his own coin. Not wanting to let things spiral out of his control, he approached their table as soon as they had finished eating. “Care for a stroll, Brienne?” Looking at the wildling as if he wanted nothing more than to feed him to the wolves, Jaime took her by the hand and led her outside the hall.

“You swore a vow,” he said, breaking the long spell of silence as they walked down the woods. “Remember?”

“What vow?” she blinked cluelessly.

_Fuck, she’s doing this deliberately just to vex me!_

“Have you forgotten all that you promised me that night?” he fought to keep his irritation down. “Would this not be the best time to act on it?” he inched closer, yearning for the touch of her lips on his. “Or would you rather wait until our children grow up and have children of their own?” he asked sarcastically.

“Our children?” she threw him a look of surprise. “Where did our children come from?”

“The heirs to our houses once we are married, just the way you described your future to be--”

“Married?” Another look of shock and bewilderment followed.

“I thought marriage was the most logical progression to--” he blushed, fumbling with words as usual when it mattered the most “--to whatever happened between us that night.”

“When did you even ask me, Ser Jaime?”

“Well, I am asking now,” he took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Is it a yes, then?”

“I’ll think about it,” she yanked her hand away and fled from there, leaving him staring after her, once again completely dumbfounded.

+++++

The next couple of days passed in a daze with everyone in the castle busy picking up the pieces and trying to rebuild what was left of life and property around them. The wounded were being attended to, and the available stock of food in the castle was being distributed among the poor and the needy. They were so busy that Jaime hardly saw Brienne for most part of the day, except during mealtimes, and that too not as regularly as he would have desired to. But he always made it a point to observe her from afar whenever he could, and every single time Tormund was in her vicinity, or spoke to her, or worse still, leered at her, his blood boiled with the profound and uncontrollable urge to snap his neck.

When Brienne continued to evade him, throwing vague statements at him and avoiding a clear reply to his proposal, he could stand it no more. Lying in wait for her, he managed to corner her alone one night during her post-supper stroll.

“What have you thought?” he waited for her reply with bated breath, though he knew deep down what to expect.

“About what?” A vacant expression came over her face as she resumed walking.

“Stop tormenting me, Brienne, you know quite well what I’m talking about,” he cried out, grabbing her arm, and turning her to face him.

“I don’t know--”

“Do you have any idea how much of a torture this is for me?” his voice went up a notch and his eyes were fixed on hers. “Every minute that I spend away from you feels like an hour, and every hour a day. I have lived my entire life under an illusion that I thought was love, but now when I’ve stumbled upon my true love, I don’t want to waste any more time--”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the dam had been broken and he had to finish what he had to say.

“I can’t live without you, wench. I don’t know how to express myself, but this is what it is. Jest and mockery are fine, but not beyond a point. Everytime I see you with that Tormund it burns a hole in my heart.” He couldn’t hold back his agitation anymore, dreading her answer to what he was about to ask her next. “If you have any second thoughts about anything you told me that night, just say the word and I won’t pursue you any more--”

“When did I even remotely imply anything like that?” she interrupted, her eyes shining and the distress on her face evident. “Since the day you arrived, you have been the one to tease me about Tormund, and this time, for a change I just decided to play along. I never imagined it would bother you so much.”

“I can’t stand the sight of that wildling looking in your direction, let alone trying to court you. Why the hell have you been encouraging his advances?” Jaime clenched his fist in fury. “I feel like choking him with my bare hand.”

“I have not been encouraging anything. I only did all this to counter your sarcasm which you have so easily been targeting me with since the day we first met. You are well aware that I cannot stand the sight of him,” she paused for breath, her eyes shining even brighter now. “He has no claim to my heart, Ser Jaime, for that is something you have already stolen from me years ago, long before I even met him.” Feeling her hand slide down his arm, he slowly relaxed his hand, her soothing touch working its magic on him as her fingers intertwined with his.

She bit her lip and tried to blink away the tears that filled her eyes. “As for everything I said that night, you are the only thing I have ever asked of the gods. I have been selfish, my lord, I begged with the seven to keep you alive for me,” her voice choked, she stopped, unable to speak further.

Jaime was suddenly ashamed and guilty of his insensitivity. “Brienne, I didn’t mean to--”

“How could you, even for a second, doubt my love for you? Have you ever thought about how much it hurts me every time you flippantly mention Tormund in the same breath as me? Have you ever imagined how upsetting it is to be the continuous target of your taunts?” Letting go of his hand, she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Cursing himself, Jaime made a mental note to get over his incorrigible habit of inappropriate and ill timed mockery. “I’m sorry, Brienne,” he said softly, wiping away her tears. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer. “You were right that day. There is a time and a place for jokes, and this is not it. I have been an idiot.” She melted into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. “I panicked, I never imagined anyone could love me so much, wench,” he mouthed into her hair. “The idea of someone caring for me unconditionally is so unknown to me, that it almost scares me to death. It is at times like these that I resort to such behaviour to mask my true emotions. I am yet to come to terms with it.”

“I would suggest you better get used to feeling cared for, my lord,” she glanced up at him smiling. “You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

“Does this mean you’ve accepted my proposal?” his heart soared, though he had never really expected a rejection.

“As if I had a choice,” she gave him a shy smile.

“Ofcourse you did,” he grinned mischievously. “There’s always that wildling you could go back to--”

“Oh, shut your mouth,” she gave him a playful punch on the arm. “If you don’t want me to go back to him, you'd better not mention him again. And don’t you forget, he’s waiting for me with open arms.”

“Fine, you win. But what about your vow, wench?” he tightened his grip on her. “Unless you want this to be the first one you run the risk of breaking, why don’t you let me have that kiss tonight?”

Brienne kissed him on the tip of his nose. “There,” she said, giving him an impish look. “There’s your kiss.” Before he could react, she broke free of his grasp and dashed away, leaving him frustrated and swearing under his breath.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime meets Selwyn Tarth

“What made you want to get married on Tarth?” Brienne linked her arm in his, as they stood on the deck gazing at the Sapphire isles in the distance.

“When you were away looking for Sansa, I happened to pass by Tarth,” Jaime recollected the day he had mistaken the island for Estermont.

“And?”

“I was instantly reminded of you,” he said simply. “I missed you, and I always wanted to go there once, and what would be a better occasion than our wedding?”

She rested her head on his shoulder, giving his hand a light squeeze. “Thank you.”

“There’s one more reason. I wanted to fulfill your maiden fantasies,” he smiled, wanting nothing more than to make every wish of hers come true.

“I had no such fantasies,” Brienne denied immediately. “I never even wanted to get married--”

“Every girl dreams of her wedding.”

“Not me, I was no regular girl.”

“You are no exception, wench!”

“Try telling my father that,” she said sourly. “Or worse still, the men I was once betrothed to.”

“That was before you met me,” he said playfully, pulling her closer. “Once you did, you couldn’t resist my charms, could you?”

“We hated each other when we first met,” she made a face. “Or have you forgotten?”

“Ah, but the truth is, I never really despised you,” he confessed. “I was in awe of you right from the day you took down those Stark men.” He decided to skip telling her that the sight had in fact aroused him, much to his surprise and irritation. “You were the knight I always wanted to be.”

“ _You_ are the knight you always wanted to be, Ser Jaime,” Brienne looked at him affectionately. “I don’t think any less of you, no matter what the world chooses to believe.”

“I’m not sure about your father, though,” Jaime’s uneasiness was back the moment he pictured Lord Selwyn’s reaction to their prospective union. “I don’t think he would approve of me or consider me worthy of his daughter.”

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Brienne did nothing to alleviate his nervousness by asking this question for the third time since morning. The minute she had accepted his proposal, Jaime had insisted that they meet her father. He wished to seek Lord Selwyn’s consent before he married her. He wanted to give her a wedding in Tarth, among her people, and also to silence those who believed that Brienne the Beauty would never find a man who could truly love her for who she was.

“By _this_ , if you mean subjecting myself to the scrutiny of my future father-in-law, who even in his wildest dreams would never have imagined that his daughter would choose the honourless Kingslayer of all the people for her husband,” Jaime spoke rapidly, finally pausing for breath when he could sustain no more. “Then, yes.”

“I didn’t fall in love with the Kingslayer,” she promptly corrected him. “I fell for Ser Jaime, the most honourable man I have ever met.”

“And what if he asked me if I was worthy enough to have you?” He pictured Selwyn Tarth interrogating him, questioning him, doubting if he deserved Brienne or not.

“Then I would tell him about the time you saved me from a bear,” she said softly. “And how could I forget the night you saved my honour at the cost of your hand? If that doesn’t make you honourable in his eyes, I don’t know what will.”

“What about my other crimes?” he lowered his eyes, ashamed of the various atrocities he had committed. “Bran, the countless innocents whose lives I have taken, and not to mention my relationship with Cersei. I have fathered three bastards with my sister, Brienne.”

“All that is your past,” Brienne tried to console him. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Not to me. And if doesn’t matter to me, I care a damn about what others might think of my husband. I am going to marry you with or without his consent.”

“With would be preferable,” Jaime’s tension melted away with one look into her vivid blue eyes. “Do you know what would calm me down?” he moved closer. “Why don’t you give me that kiss you’ve been denying me for ages?”

“I’d be glad to oblige you, ser.” She planted a kiss on his forehead, her eyes twinkling. “Happy?”

“I’m going to get you for that, wench,” he yelled after her as she dodged past him and darted across the deck to her cabin.

Jaime spent the remainder of their voyage imagining various situations that could probably go wrong with Lord Selwyn. Despite Brienne’s reassurance that her father would approve of him, there was a nagging worry in his mind. The world did not perceive him the way Brienne did. In spite of redeeming himself with all he did in the great war, the ghosts of his past still continued to haunt him, and they always would throughout his life. The world wouldn’t forget his crimes that easily even if Brienne did.

After a seemingly endless journey, they landed on Tarth, and Jaime insisted that they meet Lord Selwyn before anything else.

“Ser Jaime,” Selwyn Tarth addressed him, having been appraised earlier of the intention of their meeting. “As I understand, you have come to discuss the union of your house with mine by way of an alliance with my daughter, right?”

Jaime shook his head. “You’re mistaken, my lord,” he said. “I am here to express my desire to wed Brienne.”

Selwyn looked confused. “Was that not what I meant?”

“No,” Jaime disagreed. “I’m not here for joining our houses. I wish to marry the love of my life and to make her mine. I have come here to ask for your consent since she happens to be your daughter.”

“Love of your life?” Selwyn Tarth looked at him as if he were joking. “Is this not a political arrangement, ser? What are your expectations from the alliance?”

“I expect nothing, Lord Selwyn, except your daughter’s heart which I already have, and your permission, which I now seek.”

“Then I assume you want to discuss the terms of dowry--”

“I have come to seek your blessings for the union of our hearts, Lord Selwyn, not of our houses, or of Tarth and Casterly Rock,” Jaime interrupted him, turning to Brienne. “I love your daughter, and she is the only gift I ask of you. The unification of our houses will merely be a consequence of our marriage.” When Selwyn Tarth was left speechless, he went on, explaining his intentions further. “My only expectation is for you to give me your daughter’s hand in marriage. I swear in the name of the seven that I will love her more than my life, protect her and never let go of her hand from this day until the end of my days.”

“But you could have any woman you want, Ser Jaime, definitely more beautiful and talented than my daugh--”

“Brienne is the only woman I _want_ ,” Jaime stopped him right there. “Believe me when I say this, my lord, your daughter is the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms. She has a beautiful heart, the only one which recognised this Kingslayer for the man he was always meant to be. Whatever I am today is because of her.”

Selwyn turned to his daughter. “Do you feel the same about him, my dear?”

Brienne nodded, smiling. “You have always wished for me to marry and settle down father. I could never dream of a life with anyone other than Ser Jaime.”

“Are you sure he will make you happy, my child?”

“I do not expect him to do that,” she turned to Jaime, overwhelmed. “All I know is that I _will be_ happy with him, and no one but him.”

“I will,” Jaime took her hand, kissing it. “I’ll do my best to make sure she’s happy as long as there is even a single breath of life remaining in me. I request you to give me a chance to do that, Lord Selwyn.”

“Very well, Ser,” Selwyn smiled at them. “You both have my blessings.”

+++++

“There’s no going back now, wench,” Jaime warned her as they walked hand in hand along the seashore under the moonlit sky. “We’re to be married tomorrow.”

Brienne didn’t answer him, looking lost in thought. “Is something wrong?” he asked her, concerned.

“That thing you told my father about--”

“I meant every word of it, Brienne,” he turned her around to face him. He had been expecting this question. “When I said you are the most beautiful woman I’ve known, I wasn’t mocking or joking. I mean it, you really are beautiful, in my eyes.”

She huffed a little laugh. “I’m just not used to being loved or appreciated.”

“Better start getting used to it, then. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, my lady,” he said, absolutely sure that she was blushing, though he couldn’t see her face properly in the dark.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a while watching the waves hit the shore, for the first time in their lives, the cares of the world and the others in their lives off their shoulders, free of the burden they had always carried. It was time to live for themselves, for each other and there was no better time than tomorrow for this new beginning.

“We should be heading back,” he suggested, realizing that if they had to be up for the ceremony early morning, they had to get back to bed, though he doubted either of them would get any sleep tonight. He made his way towards the castle, awaiting tomorrow’s sunrise and the days of happiness it was to bring him.

He had hardly taken a couple of steps when he felt a little tug on his arm and stopped, turning around to face her again. Before he could say or do anything, Brienne’s arms were around his neck and her lips on his. She was kissing him, kissing him like her life depended on it, like this was their last night in this world. _And gods, it felt wonderful!_ He flung his arms around her and kissed her back like he had never kissed anyone before. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she sank into his arms, her lips parting slightly, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Her soft moan against his mouth was motivation enough for him to plunge his tongue into her mouth, with both of them eventually surrendering to each other and the inexplicable sensation of bliss that this was only the beginning of.

Several seconds later when they broke apart, Brienne opened her eyes, her face flushed and her lips swollen from the torture he had subjected them to. “Was that a satisfactory fulfillment of my vow, Ser Jaime?” she asked shyly, dropping her gaze.

“An excellent start,” he panted, still reeling from the impact of the kiss. “But you had promised me more than kisses, right? I can’t wait for our wedding night to claim the rest of it. And wench, would you care to do me a little favour?”

“At least now, get rid of the _ser_ , for heaven’s sake!” he exclaimed, when she looked at him questioningly. Pulling her back into her arms, he captured her lips again, the moonlit night, their solitude and sound of the waves in the backdrop heightening his desire to such an extent that he was now worried about restraining himself until tomorrow.

+++++

“What do you think?” Jaime looked at her expectantly when they lay in each other’s arms, their hot and sweaty bodies still recovering from their incredible night of passion. “Have I managed to impress my wife enough for her first time?”

“Well,” she lowered her lashes coyly, playing with the hair on his chest. “Let me just say that I want to look forward to this every night.”

“Every night?” Jaime’s eyes widened, the lust in him mounting in anticipation at her suggestion.

“We need our heirs, don’t we?” she suggested, reddening.

“The way we are heading, wench,” he pulled her closer. “I fear we might find it difficult to limit the number of heirs to our houses, though our fathers would be proud...” Without further deliberation, he devoured her lips again and pinned her against the bed succumbing once more to the heat of their desire, while silently thanking the gods for the priceless gift they had bestowed upon him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
